Second Chances
by dandelionsandroses
Summary: When Katniss got back the rescued Peeta from the Capitol, she only received a fragmented mess of who Peeta really was. She wished for nothing more than to have the old Peeta back again. Follow Katniss as she gets unexplainably transported back to the train at the end of Book One, for a shot at a second chance to do it all over.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is a story that has been in my head for a while and I have been really looking forward to writing it. Thanks for reading! The parts written by Suzanne Collins are italicized. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Hunger Games universe. This is just something fun I enjoy participating in.**

_Snow has stolen him from me, twisted him beyond recognition, and made me a present of him. Boggs, who came to 2 when I did, told me that even with all the plotting, it was a little too easy to rescue Peeta. He believes if 13 hadn't made the effort, Peeta would've been delivered to me anyway. Dropped off in an actively warring district or perhaps 13 itself. Tied up with ribbons and tagged with my name. Programmed to murder me. It's only now that he's been corrupted that I can fully appreciate the real Peeta. Even more than I would've if he'd died. The kindness, the steadiness, the warmth that had an unexpected heat behind it. Outside of Prim, my mother, and Gale, how many people in the world love me unconditionally? I think in my case, the answer may now be none. Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost. But what's the use? It's gone. He's gone. Whatever existed between us is gone._

What I would give to be once again back in the safe closure of his arms. To have him love me again, so unconditionally, in a way that nobody could ever love me again. But there was no point in wishing over something I could never have. No matter how much I yearn, my chance is gone. All that's left is my promise to kill Snow. It's that promise that allow's me a night's sleep.

* * *

The oddest sensation greets me when I awake. I feel my feet in an upright position, and as I run my hands outward I no longer see the scars that should be there. It's unsettling. When I hear that voice, Peeta's voice, unmistakable I realize I must be dreaming.

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says.

It's the same words that he spoke to me years ago, and when I look out I see him. Peeta Mellark. In all of his healthy beauty, no bags, no scars, only the slight limp from his prosthetic cause to worry. It feels so real, that I almost question if it is a dream. I can distinctively feel the tall grass gently swaying across my bare legs, I can hear the soft rumble of the nearby train, and most importantly when I look out I see Peeta in distinction.

Is it possible? Could this not be a dream? I shake my head at the silly thoughts.

"Well, Katniss. Don't just stand there and stare at me. I deserve an answer."

"I-," I'm broken off as a fat bug lands on me. The feeling is so real, so awake, that it shakes me from my confusion. Whatever state I am in, whatever dream or twisted reality I have ended up in, I can at least experience Peeta to some degree until this turns into a nightmare. All of the good dreams turn into nightmares when I spend my nights alone in the bunk. With no arms to surround me, the nightmares have found new roots with the loss of Peeta and the Quarter Quell. I handed up like him, with most of my current nightmares are focused around losing Peeta again.

I suddenly feel the urge to take advantage of this situation's feeling of reality and as Peeta begins to speak I cut him off by enwrapping my arms around his body. It makes him falter a bit and we both fall back onto the soft grasses below us. I push myself on top of him and enclose my lips around his. The warm desire bubbling in my body reminds me of everything I have missed. I keep my lips on his, even though he fails to reciprocate, pushing my tongue into his mouth and only coming up for a gasp of air. I could make Peeta happy. I could give him what he wanted, even if it was only in this faltered state of reality.

He looks up at me with a sigh, "Katniss. Please don't toy with me like this. Don't kiss me if you don't mean it."

I stare into the blue orbs of his eye, the varying shades reminding in their perfect detail that this is the Peeta Mellark that I knew. Not the one that came back from the Capitol. Not even the one I went into the Quarter Quell with, just pure unadulterated Peeta. Innocent. Sweet. No sugar in his tea goodness. I gently trace the side of his face with my index finger, taking in the soft perfection of his skin before I say what I wish I could say in real life.

"You are," I choke out, "You are one of the most kind people I know. I have no idea why you love me, and I know that I could live a thousand lifetimes and never will I ever **deserve **you. I want nothing more in this world, than to spend the rest of my life in this moment," I grip his shirt and ball it up in my hands before speaking words that I had never spoken to him before, "I love you Peeta Mellark."

**Author's Note: Yes, I know this chapter was short, but I wanted to get my words out on paper and see what you thought. If there are any errors, I wrote this illegally in class in about ten minutes. So it's probably going to be a bit bad. Other than that, I'm looking for a beta and further chapters will be around 4,000 words. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or worlds presented in this story. All characters/settings belong to the wonderful Suzanne Collins and her publishers. Nothing in the Hunger Games Trilogy is mine:) Obviously...**

**Merry Christmas and a thank you to eatsnightlockforbreakfast!**

Dream Peeta, or maybe I should just refer to him as Peeta, presses against me, his hot warm breath brushing against my skin. His eyes are cast with an uncertain shadow, wondering if what I have just said is real. Wondering if it is possible for me to be here like this with him. He lifts me up gently by the waist, his hands wrinkling the crisp fabric of my dress, and looks into my dull grey eyes with his bright blue ones. I force myself to resist the ever-present urge to just squeeze him as hard as I can.

"Don't say that to me if you don't mean it," he says brushing his thumb against the smooth skin that runs along my cheeks. His hands are surprisingly soft, different than what they will become, and it phases me for a moment. Then I remember that both of us were recently touched up by the capitol. I wonder if I still have my scars.

Oh, Peeta. Even here I have managed to make him doubtful of my feelings. How is it that no matter what universe I am in, I hurt Peeta? It's the one thing I'm consistently good at.

"Hey," I push his golden locks back, run my hands through his hair and straddle him, pressing my body against him in an attempt to be physically close. "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." I cling onto the bottom of his shirt, and press my lips to his to reinforce my point. My tongue slips into his mouth. I'm desperate to be as together with him as physically possible. I need to take advantage of this for as long as I can. When we finally come up for air he looks at me, his face full of childish delight.

"I love you too, Katniss. I've loved you for so long," he says to me, his body pushing against mine.

"We should," I look down at our frenzied state, "We should probably get back now. If Effie walked in on us like this..." Effie. I hadn't thought about her yet. If this world was like it had been for me the first time, if this dream or alternate reality was the same I would be seeing Effie again. As annoying as I found her, it brings a slight smile to my lips.

Peeta removes himself from my body, standing up before grabbing me by the wrist and hoisting me up along with him. Slipping his fingers into mine, he smiles, "Hey, what are you smiling about?"

"Oh, nothing," I say and I bite my lip in order to resist just pouncing on his blue eyed, golden haired self. I couldn't spend my entire time here just kissing him, or could I? If this was temporary, and I wasn't quite willing to think of the consequences of this being permanent, couldn't I just kiss him, sleep with him even, all I wanted? Couldn't I savor in making this Peeta happy and giving him everything I wished I had given when I had the chance?

I sigh and I grasp his other hand, looking into his deep blue eyes I take him into a choking hug.

"Peeta, you have no idea," I mutter into his chest, "you have no idea how much I, how much I want to give you. I can't help myself around you. You know that?"

He smiles at me in that innocent Peeta way, "I think I have a bit of an idea what that feels like."

I rest my head on his shoulder, keeping my hand in his as we walk up the stairs to the train. The train is exactly like I remember it, every detail remains the same to that moment. Cold sleek interiors, fresh roses, and steel doors greet me like they did before. It frightens me how real it all feels, and I worry that I may be taken from this world too soon. I have to take advantage of the situation while it lasts.

"Peeta," I say motioning towards the door that leads to the little viewing room at the end of the train, "Why don't we go back there. There's something I want to do."

He follows me as I lead him through the doorway, his feet clumping against the floor as he enters the room. I slam the door behind him, pushing him against the sleek metal and pinning him down with my elbows as I drop to my knees.

"Ka-Katniss, what are you doing?" he looks down at me, his eyes meeting me with an uncertain glance.

I don't know what I'm doing, honestly. I've never done it before, though I get the general premise. I just want to make him happy.

"I don't know, Peeta. Just let me do it, okay?" I slip my hands to his belt buckle.

He places his smooth hands on mine, prohibiting me from going any further, "Katniss, please don't," his familiar voice falters with a crack of emotion, his blue eyes pleading with me as he speaks up, "I don't want it to be here, not like this. I want you. I really do, you know that. I just don't want it to be here. In their train. I want to wait for it to be special."

It's just like Peeta, to want it to be special. He's so impossibly good in every way. Never asking for more, forgiving me for playing with his emotions, holding me at night on the tour and being nothing but a gentleman. He deserved to have what he wanted. He deserved to get a girl who would give him a toasting and a baby. Instead he got lies and a fake pregnancy.

I should have given him what he wanted when I had the chance. Even though a baby and a real wedding weren't possible, at least I should have given sex. That was something I could have provided him with.

Now it's just awkward, kneeling on the floor with him pinned against the door, so I quickly stand up and face him.

"It didn't have to be sex or anything. We could have just, you know." I turn as a red as a beet as I shove my hands into the too small decorative pockets.

It's innocent enough, I guess. We're both old enough and this probably isn't even real. Most boys would go along with it when it was offered to them.

"I know," he says grasping my hands and tracing light circles against the skin of my palms, "I know what you mean. I just want this to be different. We can wait a little while. I want both of us to be ready for everything when it happens, okay?" his bright blue eyes question me.

I sigh. I only wanted to make him happy and I can't even do this right. Of course he would want to wait. It's Peeta.

"Okay," I say cautiously, "If you ever want to, when you want to, we can um... you know."

He laughs and removes his hands from mine, grasping me at the waist and delicately lifting me from the floor in a fit of glee.

"Alright, Katniss. Alright. Why don't we head back and meet up with Haymitch and Effie. We've been gone for quite a while and we will be arriving soon."

* * *

He grabs my hand and leads me through the assortment of different train cars. Home. We will be arriving home soon. I wonder if this dream world will stay the same when we get home. Will it last that long? Will I wake up the next morning back in District 13? If I get to District 12 in this world will we find the charred remains of my people and the remnants of the District or will everything be like it was the first time I lived this. Does it mean that I will get to see all of the people from the Seam who died? Peeta's family? My head spins in a million different directions as I try to comprehend what is going on. It's lasted longer than I could have imagined and it still feels just as real as it did the first time.

It's probably best that I don't overthink this. I should try to enjoy it while it lasts. I have to enjoy Peeta while I can. I have to give him something, anything, and make him happy before I slip back into the world where Peeta sees me like I really am.

When we enter the dining cart I finally see them again. Effie is devoid of the orange wig that she sported when I last saw her. She's wearing pink on her head, the wig she wore during the games, but she's as alive and real as Peeta seems. Haymitch is there too, passed out and slumped against a sleek white chair. Typical Haymitch, but it's better this way. I don't want to deal with him at the moment.

"Wonderful, darlings, you are here. I have been looking all over for you. It's a mess. We're going to be back in District 12 in precisely ten minutes. Here, follow me. Take a mic," she turns to us and adjusts her purple translucent earring before handing each of us a small silver earpiece.

"There will be press at the platform. Remember to smile," she says peppily. I've forgotten in some ways what Effie was like, and hearing her voice, a voice that at one time annoyed me, almost brings tears to my eyes.

Effie grabs both of our hands, her dainty fingers firmly holding mine as she leads us through the different train cars. Never breaking her bright shiny smile.

As we walk, I look behind Effie's hair and smile back at Peeta and give him a secretive smile and a roll of my eyes. I still feel the urge to pounce on him, but luckily it's lessened by Effie's presence. I don't think she would exactly approve of me pushing him against the train hallway and kissing him. So instead, I just grit my teeth and bite down on my cheek. I should probably take advantage of every minute I have with Peeta, but upsetting Effie, even dream Effie, doesn't sound pleasant.

Effie loosens her grip and allows a capitol attendant to open the door when we reach the middle car that I vaguely remember using the first time around.

"Up you go," she says motioning towards the steps that I quickly run up, earning a look of disapproval as Peeta slowly navigates them, his leg inhibiting him from going any faster. I slip my hand into his, giving him a bright happy smile that hopefully screams_ I love you, I never want to leave you_. For all I know, I probably look constipated. I'm not very good with these things. It must say something right, though, because I'm awarded with a childish grin that spreads across his face like a spark on dry wood.

The bleak purple wallpaper seems to disappear from my line of vision as he brushes my hair from my face and places his other hand on the small of my back, the heat from his fingers finding me through the thin fabric of my dress.

The doors slide open, and yet again I meet the cameras and my district.

**Author's Note - I know this is a bit short, but I had to cut it off here for the sake of the story. I didn't want to reveal District 12/Gale/Her Family/etc. right now as I want to expand on that in the next chapter if that makes any sense.**

**I'm sorry posting this chapter took such a long time. I have been focusing on By Your Hand I Have Loved at the moment. Also, I'm on vacation at the moment:)**

**If you have any constructive criticism, feel free to give it! What do you think of the story? I'm very interested in your opinion.**

**You can follow me on tumblr at starveinsafety. Feel free to ask me anything on there. I will be sure to answer!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/places in the Hunger Games universe. This is purely fanfiction for the enjoyment of the fans. It is not intended to harm anybody, so don't sue me.**

When the doors open and Peeta and I step onto the train platform, the deafening sound of the press greets us with a chaotic rhythm of flashes and questions.

"Katniss, how did you feel when…"

"Peeta, what did you think when you heard…"

"What will you do with your lives now?"

But I ignore their questions, although I give bright smiles for the cameras, just in case this will have some sort of effect on my life. It is second nature by now, the second a camera comes out I find myself flung across Peeta's chest with a bright smile.

The weeks between the games and when the cameras had left had been very hard. I'm not exactly excited about reliving them, that is, of course, under the condition that when I wake up tomorrow I remain in this world.

What if I don't?

What if I only get one day here? What if I only have a few hours left with this Peeta?

The thought brings a terrified flutter to my heart. Peeta must notice, because he tightens his grip on my hand and leans over to my ear, his hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of my head as he speaks.

"Look over there," he nods towards a gated section at the bottom of the platform, "See, those two blonde heads, right there? We're home, Katniss. We're finally home."

It's only this that makes me want to break free from Peeta, for the first time today.

Prim.

And not just any Prim, not the one I know back in District 13. Not the girl who spends her days in the hospital, caring for the sick in an underground district.

No, this girl standing with my mother, the girl with two long french braids and a loose blue blouse lazily tucked into a matching skirt, this girl is not the Prim I know now. She's the twelve year old Prim, simple and innocent. She has yet to experience the hardships of seeing her sister go into the games for another round. She has yet to see her district and it's people burn to a crisp.

She's sweet and childish, and I've missed her. It's this that breaks my resolve, and I fling myself from the warm comfort of Peeta's body, running down the stairs in a manner that would not be approved of by Effie.

"Prim! Prim," I say as I swing back the gate and crush her into my arms. She smiles back at me, looking into my eyes with pure happiness.

"You came home," she says, breaking our hug and nervously dangling her hands by her side. I take note only then at the hulking figure behind her and my mother's shaky voice.

"Katniss, your cousins are here to see you," she says with the same forced smile that I remember from the first time around.

Of course, this time it isn't needed. I know that I'm supposed to refer to the Hawthorne family as my cousins, but I give her a reassuring nod to let her know that I understand her clearly.

A voice breaks through my exchange with my mother, like a young fawn clumsily running through freshly fallen snow. The voice, one I know better than my own, cuts through the air with a thick heavy tone.

"Hey, Catnip," his eyes water, "You're home." Large arms crush me into a strong body, the smell of pine and old cotton reaches my nose in a familiar scent.

Gale.

My Gale. He hadn't been in my thoughts that much. I hadn't even considered what it would be like to be around him. We spend so much time together in thirteen that I hadn't worried about it.

It's odd, hugging Gale like this. I can tell, even here, he's less angry, less broken. Hurt, still hurt, but he's different.

I remove him from my arms, and gaze into his eyes. His grey eyes look into mine with that needy, love struck expression that I have become accustomed to. I've missed him like this. It will be nice, if this lasts, to do it all over again with the friend I had lost to heartbreak and the pain of war.

"Well say hello to your other cousins too! Posy isn't here, though, she came down with something and mother is staying with her."

"Katniss," a breath hangs over my neck as I break away from Gale, once again giving Prim a small hug.

It's Peeta, he looks a little bit disheveled, maybe his brothers messed with his hair? I take a glance towards his family, I can see the two blonde brothers standing awkwardly near his parents. He's home, why would they allow him to leave?

"Hey, Peeta," I say, taking his hand and running my gaze towards the ground. It's always been odd to be near both of these men in a confined space.

He glances at my mother with a nervous sideways smile, and a cameraman giggles at the exchange, taking a quick photo.

"Effie needs us to take some more photos, they have enough of the reunions. We're needed over there," he runs his hands through his golden locks, "I'm sorry. We have to go," he says, allowing me to give quick hugs to my family and to answer some questions before leading me towards to where Effie stands in the center of the square.

* * *

I spend that night tucked away in the same exact same home that I resided in the first time. It's all the same. The room, the bed, and even the pot of flowers that Effie leaves on my dresser is identical to the first time I lived this life.

That night, I do not sleep. I only stare at the ceiling, making maps with the swirls of the stucco and wondering if I should sneak into Peeta's house and take advantage of his presence. The thoughts of waking up tomorrow in District 13, coupled with the established horrors of the two games I have experienced, or the one I have experienced and the one that is yet to come, haunt me well into the morning.

But it doesn't happen. When I wake up the next morning I find myself exactly where I went to bed.

* * *

Peeta and I spend the next few days preoccupied by the press. Each morning I've woken is started with a desperate search for the sun. For the one sign that I am not back in the harsh and gray underground district. For a sign that the blonde haired, blue eyed baker no longer wishes to rip my heart out.

And every day that I spend, the signs are there. The genuine flashes of bright childish joy in his eyes, the smiles he flashes at me when we get a second alone, innocently unaware of the inferno that we have created. It's those moments that fill me with wonder at the ability I now have to spend time with Peeta's true form. When we were fighting for our lives, bickering over hurt feelings, when I was starving myself from his love, I forgot that Peeta was just an innocent man, a boy really, who would give his life up for mine, who would do the right thing no matter the cost. He was by far the most honorable person I had ever known, and I had deprived him of the one thing he wanted in this world.

Me.

* * *

The cameras start to leave one by one. After the first few days, the number of reporters and obligations dwindle down, but still remain constant. Near the end, the press significantly thins out and the day that Effie, and the few remaining reporters, take the train back to Capitol unofficially signifies the end of the drowning frenzy.

I have to admit, I had not enjoyed reliving it the second time.

That first morning is a Sunday, one spent in the depth of the woods with Gale. There is no talk of kissing, or thankfully, Peeta, but it's hard for me to remember that we haven't already had certain conversations. And I find myself monitoring my words in a place where I had never felt the need.

Although, at least this time I know that I am being watched.

* * *

The dirt moves under my feet, blowing through the wind with every kick of my boots as I cast my glance downward, avoiding the stares of my neighbors and friends as I walk past the Seam and into Victor's Village.

The lights in my own house are off. Even though we have somewhat stable electricity, and the cost is no longer an issue, my mother always turns out the lights when she leaves. She must have gone to the Ellet house to help with their toddler, who she mentioned came down with some sort of flu.

Haymitch's house is running a light upstairs, from what I can see from the street, but it's quiet and the freshly broken bottles on the porch tell me he must have fallen asleep drinking. Probably will not be up for a while…

Peeta's lights are, like always, on. It's hard to tell if he's awake or not because he is always running lights upstairs and downstairs. Doesn't like the dark, I guess. I never asked, even when he did it the first time around. With his family gone and the nightmares taking hold, going home to an empty dark house can't be pleasant.

I don't really have anything else to do, and I've been meaning to set some time aside to see him. So, since there is no good reason why I shouldn't see if he is home, I slinker up his porch, hands in pockets, and I knock on the door.

Knock! Knock! Knock! The sound of my fist hitting the solid wooden door radiates through Victor's Village.

Nobody answers.

I pound on the door once again, this time calling to Peeta as I bang against the wood. Just as I am turning away to leave, assuming he's at the bakery or with friends, I hear the familiar clumping that his legs make as they clomp down the stairs.

When he opens the door his face breaks into a grin. His hair is disheveled, and the deep circles under his eyes make it obvious that he didn't get a lot of good sleep last night. The same dark circles are apparent on my own face with a lack of makeup, the purple hue signifying the terrors of the night.

"Hey, Katniss," he says, allowing me to step into his house, "So, what's with all the banging?"

* * *

Peeta invites me into his home, and leads me to a barstool. Across from me Peeta shuffles through the kitchen.

"What would you like to eat, Katniss? Is there anything specific I could make?"

I run my fingers through my braid, "Oh, nothing," I say, although in truth I am a bit hungry.

"You sure? I thought, since it's lunchtime that we could have some sandwiches, maybe some soup. How does turkey and some cheddar potato soup sound?"

Cheddar potato soup. It was one of my favorites, Peeta has made it a handful of times before, although, this Peeta doesn't know that.

"Yeah, that sounds great," I say, doing a half spin in the chair.

He pulls out a pot and turns on the stove, "You know, if there's anything else you want, anything at all, I could try to see if I could make it. Here, try some of the sauce" he hands me a tiny blue porcelain bowl filled with some sort of topping before running his hands nervously through his blonde locks.

I smile at him, "I think we both know that anything you make will be fine, or at least, better than anything I could make myself," I say, dipping my index finger into the dish and tasting the rich sauce. It's fairly spicy, and the heat from whatever it contains rises from my tongue, a sweet aftertaste filling my mouth.

"What is it?" I ask him, licking my finger clean.

"It's a mixture of a few different things. With all of the new supplies from the Capitol, I was just experimenting with some different things," he looks at me and bites his lower lip, "Did you like it?"

"It's good," I say, moving on to taste another dish that he hands me, something chocolatey in a liquid form, "Everything you do is good."

**Author's Note: I realize this is pretty short, I had so many goals for 4,000 words per chapter, and I know I'm making excuses, but I had exams and it was just very hectic. However, I got a decent amount of words in. I'm also in a rut with _By Your Hand I Have Loved, but it will be out._  
**

**Other than that, you can follow me at starveindafety on tumblr. And as always, I would like to thank my wonderful beta, eatsnightlockforbreakfast, for helping out with this story:)**


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